warning - self-blaming, self-deprecating, and hateful inner thoughts. this is only River's inner thought process and does not reflect reality.
♔ ♕ ♔
Humiliation feels like a weight pressing against my chest, making it nearly impossible to breathe. Every part of me is burning, with rage, confusion, sadness. As I look forward toward the road ahead of me, my eyes water with unshed emotion and all I can see is Grayson's emotionless gaze.
He played me. He used me and tricked me into thinking he wanted something more from us. And I fell for it.
The sweet words, the soft hands, the passion - it was all a ruse to just use my body. There's a stinging in my body, the shattered pieces of my heart tearing me from within.
I believed in him. I blindly trusted that he truly cared about me. And he manipulated me. My eyes lied to me, telling me there was something beneath that rough, angry exterior and I really have no one to blame but myself.
I did this to myself, letting someone like him in.
♔ ♕ ♔
Trevor looks like a newly adopted puppy, running around me and desperate to entertain me. I feel terrible, not able to kick the idea that I'm using Trevor like Grayson used me. But I didn't know who else to call, with Violet and Peyton out of town. I just need someone to talk to because I can't stand the thought of being alone right now.
I know that if I sit in the darkness of my room with only my thoughts to keep me company, my flood of emotions will overwhelm me beyond consolation.
To distract myself from my own demons, I look around Trevor's generously-sized room on the top floor of his house. Model airplanes, which I can imagine Trevor lovingly and painstakingly assembling, hang from the ceiling by white string. His bed is made up nicely, covered by a soft-looking navy blue comforter.
The room reeks of teenage boy and the contrasting image of Grayson's mature, monotone penthouse comes to mind. As much as the sight of Trevor's X-Men posters and childhood knick-knacks warms my heart, I feel desperately uncomfortable at the thought of being alone in this bedroom with him. My eyes flit back to his bed and I almost shudder.
"Hey, why don't we go down to your living room or something? We can hang out down there," I suggest, already moving toward his closed door. I don't remember him even closing the door.
He sits on his bed. "Don't be silly, Riv. We're pals, right? We can hang out in my chill zone. I'll nullify the "No Girls Allowed" sign on my door, so you're not violating any of my rules, don't worry." He winks at me but it looks more like a twitch. Watching Trevor wet his lips slowly, I realize I've made a terrible mistake.
Grayson's face is all I can think about and the walls of Trevor's room seem to be closing in on me, pressing against me. I take a deep breath, focusing on Trevor's harmless face and sitting down next to him.
I called him a little bit ago, giving an obviously made-up lie about needing to study for the upcoming calculus test. But he jumped at the opportunity, suggesting that I come over so he could help me study the material. When I knocked on his door, I didn't even have my backpack, but he didn't say anything.
"Trevor, I'm sorry for coming over so abruptly. It's just that I've been going through a lot and--"
He cuts me off by pressing his index finger to my open lips, quieting me. I stare in disbelief at him, about to tell him to get his fucking hands off me, when he smirks strangely.
"I know why you're here, Riv. You don't need to explain yourself to me," he says in a weird tone.
I relax, relieved that I don't need to explain my situation with my parents. My parents must have told his parents who told him. I kick myself for forgetting that Trevor's parents are friends with mine, so of course he'd understand what I'm going through. It'd be refreshing to talk about this with someone who can relate.
I lean my back against the wall, preparing to tell him all about my shitty home life. I'm hoping that wholeheartedly ranting about my parents will help me talk my mind off Grayson and the painful ache in my chest. "Trevor, that's great that you already know. It's been so frustrating trying to reason with--"
"That ugly, no good, piece of shit Grayson. Yeah, I know. You and him are all people can talk about these days, but I'm glad you're finally realizing how terrible he is," Trevor says, scooting uncomfortably close to me.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" I ask, moving away from him. Of course, Grayson is at the forefront of my thoughts right now, but I'm sure as hell not talking about Grayson with Trevor.
"Don't play coy, Riv. Honestly, I don't understand what you saw in him anyway. He's not even as attractive as everyone says, and really, I think I top him in the looks department." Trevor looks at me, expecting me to agree. I'm silent, speechless.
For one, I didn't know other people at school knew about me and Grayson. Second, I suddenly recognize the hazy look in Trevor's eyes as excitement - expectance. I feel terrible, thinking of how stupid I was to come here in the first place. Trevor was the only person I could think of that I could talk to and I realize that he's perceived my arrival as me coming onto him.
I'm such a fucked-up person, a hypocrite. "Trevor, I think you got the wrong idea. I really only think of you as a fr--"
"Riv, you don't need to be ashamed. I'll admit, waiting all these years for you to come around was discouraging. But it's all worth it now that I finally know you feel the same way," he smiles in a way that makes my heart break and my stomach churn at the same time. "Even if it took you dating that criminal asshole for you to come around, you've made me the happiest boy in the world."
When I don't answer, a flash of annoyance dashes across his eyes. "Look, I know it's a lot to confront your feelings, but I've been beyond patient with you. I've waited seven years for this and I'm not about to let you wiggle your way out of your true feelings."
I scramble off the bed, heading toward the door. "Trevor I'm sorry but I just don't feel the sam--"
But he's already in front of me, grabbing me by the shoulders and moving his lips toward me. He smells like Vaseline and Doritos. Then his moist lips are on mine, pressing hard against my mouth and the skin around it. He's so forceful that my lips are rubbing painfully against my front teeth and I feel bile rising in my throat.
His boney fingers clasp my right breast, hard.
I shove him off me, watching as he pathetically stumbles into his bed. Dazed and angry, Trevor squints his eyes at me. "What the freak, River? I'd never talk to a lady like this, but you're being a fucking bitch right now."
I'm already out the door, running down his staircase and tuning out his yells.
"You can't run away from me, Riv! You know you want this." His voice is louder than I've ever heard it before.
"Yeah, just go run back to the guy that treats you like the whore you are!"
I try to ignore his hateful, desperate words but they eat their way into my mind, causing tears to build up and my lungs to fill with that familiar heavy feeling.
This has happened to me twice in the past few days. Snake and Trevor, both reducing me to nothing but a warm, female body. Even Trevor, the guy I once thought was the nicest guy ever, felt the need to put me in my place. I want to claw my skin off, to scrub my flesh until the memory of every man that's used me is washed down the drain.
Maybe I'm exactly what they say I am. Useless. A tease.
That's why Grayson doesn't want me. That's why my parents don't love me. That's why almost everyone in my life has only wanted to use me, not caring about the person I really am. That's why I keep finding myself in these situations, feeling like shit.
God, maybe I really am pathetic.
♔ ♕ ♔
Against all better judgement, I drive home. I'm tired of relying on other people, only for them to tell me what I should already know. I've lived my whole life with rose-colored glasses on, trying my best to ignore the glaring truth about myself. I've blamed everyone else for the shitty things that have happened to be but failed to notice the common denominator in all of this.
Me.
I give a sigh of relief when I don't see my parents' cars in the driveway. I burst through the house up to my room. In my room, I slam my door shut and lock it.
I dig out a pink box from under my bed, dragging it across my rug out to me. Inside the box lays pictures, old notebooks, mementos, and my diary. Seeing the diary, covered in girly doodles, turtle stickers, and red hearts, my chest burns even more. It's just a testament to how stupid and naive I've been. Since my first memories, I've only pressed down the dark feelings inside me and presented myself as perfect, little River.
I rip the stupid cover off and bring the naked diary to my desk, slamming it onto the surface and sitting down.
With a black pen, I write everything I know. Tears splash onto the page but I angrily scrawl out everything.
Grayson didn't want me. He didn't want anything to do with me, besides sex. Of course that's all he'd want for me, I don't have anything to offer besides that. I really believed that I deserved another person to love and cherish me for me. I've prided myself on being a straight-A student but I can't put two and two together and figure this shit out? He told me to my face: I should have known his intentions.
What happened at the street race was all my fault. I wore what I wore and had the nerve to be surprised when Snake reacted to my outfit. I play the victim all the time and feel justified when I whine constantly about it.
And poor Trevor. I've led him on for the entire time we've known each other. The boy has fallen over himself trying to prove himself to me. Then I use him just like I've been used. I led him on and went to his fucking house, giving him hope that we could be anything beyond friends. Of course he got the wrong idea. I basically told him I wanted him, then pushed him away and ran out. I left him there, brokenhearted and confused.
I deserved every word he said to me. Because it's the truth.
Then there's that night two years ago, on my back in a dark room, when I was at my lowest. The night I haven't told anyone about, not even Violet or Peyton. I've thought about that night every day since it happened, blaming him and the alcohol. There's a pattern to the pain I've experienced.
Why am I just now realizing it?
My parents saw my flaws from the beginning, that's why they do everything in their power to stay away from me. If it wasn't for me and my victim-mindset, maybe mom wouldn't have cheated on dad. Maybe if I didn't steal dad's credit card or pine for their attention when I was younger, things would be different.
My entire life, I've blamed every shitty thing that's happened on my parent's raising of me. I've taken the easy way out.
Maybe if I was normal, we'd be a happy family. If I was normal, funny and athletic like Peyton or pretty and smart like Violet, I wouldn't be crying right now, for the hundredth time this week.
But I'm useless and I ruin everything. And it's time I accept it.